


The Avengers and the Devil of Hell's Kitchen

by Jonah_Smith_907



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff I guess, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Kidnapping, M/M, No Smut, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, also gay stuff, did I mention the drama?, suicidal thoughts?, until now anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-03-07 18:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13440777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonah_Smith_907/pseuds/Jonah_Smith_907
Summary: Tony Stark has a thing for Daredevil. He's curious about him. So naturally, he tries to find out everything about that guy. But then he has to discover, that the Devil of Hell's Kitchen is not immune to kidnapping and torture. When Tony, Steve and Bucky find him in a cell after he's been missing for three weeks, they take him with them to the Stark Tower.Turns out Matt Murdock has had issues before, and now even more. But the Avengers are tough guys and they try to do their best to help him cope.Loads of emotional hurt/comfort, also probably a few ships. Or not, I'm not sure yet. Though I kinda like Clint/Matt, so that's gonna happen sooner or later.No smut though





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> pls don't hate me, I didn't read through it once more, no idea if there are like weird mistakes of any kind or something, just be kind :)  
> Also: don't expect updates too soon, because I also have to write another Daredevil fanfiction which is taking me ages.

Tony Stark liked being a hero. He liked how children beamed when they saw him, how they wore plastic helmets of his suit. He liked being loved. 

And he liked to be needed. But now, with the Avengers in his tower and without a mission, he started to feel useless. Of course he tried to put his mind on other things, tried to distant himself. 

Most of his time he spent in his lab or in his workshop, building, inventing and destroying new things. Sometimes Bruce would join him and they'd theorize for hours, but most of the time Tony worked alone. Some people might think he was lonely – Steve once mentioned something like that – but he kept insisting that he was not. 

After all, he threw the best parties in the country. And that was quite social, wasn't it?

There was one thing though, that interested him outside of his tower and fans. Or rather one person. 

The Devil of Hell's Kitchen. 

The local vigilante had a fascination about him that Tony couldn't quite grasp. He was like a secret that needed solving, but at the same time he was like a volt with 10 different locks and codes and safety measures, impossible to crack. 

But Tony Stark had always been a persistent person. 

And thus he began digging. 

Two years back he went, to when Daredevil had first been brought up in the news. Big topic. There was video footage of him, too. At first in completely black clothes and some sort of hat-scarf-mask-thing, covering the upper half of his face – Tony had always wondered how that guy could see anything through that – and later then in a red suit with small horns at the front of the helmet which replaced the old mask. Probably the reason for the name. 

But try finding that guy! Watching traffic cameras until 4am didn't help in the slightest and even the few times Tony had flown over the city as Iron Man got him no new informations. 

Daredevil was like a ghost. When the police was called to a fight in a dark alley you could be sure it was him, but as soon as they got there, he was gone and the criminals he'd been fighting were scared to death and happy to talk.

Then, only a few days ago, Tony changed tactics. 

Instead of freezing his ass off in the middle of the night, he focused on the two lawyers that had brought down Wilson Fisk, that ugly pig. 

First thing he did, was – obviously – finding out everything about the little firm 'Nelson & Murdock'. Turns out the better looking one with the dark hair had been quite a hero as a kid. Though not the hero Tony was looking for.

Then the firm had died down, the two partners and their secretary had went separate ways. Mr. Nelson was now working in a different, bigger law firm, Ms. Page had changed business and was now working for a newspaper, and Mr. Murdock – the kid-hero – didn't seem to have a job. Nevertheless, he still lived in quite an impressive apartment, which he shouldn't be able to afford. 

After running the background check, Tony went to the men – he figured they'd know more about what he wanted to know than the secretary. He tried to stay mostly unrecognised on his way to the two places, with a cap and huge sunglasses, to keep attention away. To his own surprise, it worked pretty well. 

At first he went to the Nelson-guy. He seemed to know something, but kept his mouth shut, even after several bribing attempts. That guy just didn't give in. 

His next stop was Mr. Murdock. He knocked and waited. Then the door opened and a shaggy-haired man stood in front of him, dressed in sweatpants and a shirt, red sunglasses on his nose. He looked amazing. Tired, but amazing. “Hi.”, Tony smiled. 

“Mr. Stark.”, the dark-haired man greeted him. “May I ask what you are doing here?”

“Yes. Sorry, I didn't call or anything, I hope my intrusion doesn't bother you?” 

“No. Of course not.” It sounded like a lie, although the lawyer turned his lips into a smile – which never reached his eyes. Tony could see that despite the glasses. “Come in.”

“Ah, right, yes. It won't be long, I just have a few question about an old case of yours and I thought 'Hey, why don't I go visit him myself', so here I am.” Matt led the way to the living room, then turned around and raised a doubting eyebrow. “It's an Avengers business.”, Tony added. Obviously it was a lie, but people liked it when they thought they could help the glorious Avengers. 

The two men sat down on the couch, Matt waiting, Tony uncomfortable. This man made him nervous. He looked nice, yes, and he had seemed nice in interviews, but right here, right now, he just looked really done. But that didn't keep Tony from placing a bug under the coffee-table right next to the couch. 

“So what is it you want to talk about?”

“I just wanted to ask a few things about the Fisk case.”

Matt frowned. “The whole trial was public. I don't know what kind of questions there would be left.”

“Oh, yeah, right.” Tony cleared his throat. “Let me clarify myself.” He smiled. “It's not Wilson Fisk I'm particularly interested in. It's how you got all the informations needed.”

Matt squinted suspiciously. He knew exactly what the other man was talking about.

For a few moments neither of them said anything. Then Matt spoke up: “What is your interest in Daredevil?”

His smooth but somehow dark voice let goosebumps run down Tony's spine when he answered: “Just curiosity.” The lawyer yet again raised an eyebrow and Tony sighed. “Look, I'm just a cute little fanboy who wants to meet his hero.” Lying seemed like a stupid idea here. He didn't know how Murdock did it, but somehow he didn't buy any of the falsehoods Tony had tried to sell. 

“He isn't a hero.”, Matt automatically said. “And I doubt that he's interested in anything like that. Everybody knows that you are like a child-stalker who tries to solve riddles. No offense.”

“None taken. It's the truth.” He had to admit that he was now even more impressed. He hadn't expected such bluntness. “But I'd really like to meet him.”

“I can't help you with that.” Matt stood up and then turned halfway around. “I would very much appreciate it, if you could take your bug back home with you. I doubt that it would feel very comfortable here. This apartment can sometimes be a rather … violent. Environment.”

How the hell did he notice that?! The man was blind! Though the message was clear: 'take the bug back home with you or it will mysteriously get destroyed. Either way, leave and don't mess with me, I don't want to have to do anything with your bullshit.'

Without another word, Tony reached over and with a swift move removed the black little device he had placed earlier.

 

Not too long after Tony's visit, Matt called Foggy.

“Tony Stark just stopped by.”

_“He was here, too, but I didn't say anything.”_

“Good.” He sighed. “He wanted to meet Daredevil, I said no. He placed a bug, I told him to take it back with him. You should probably check for one, too. Just in case.”

 _“Yeah.”_ , Foggy huffed and then hung up. He was still pissed. 

As for Karen, she had only found out a few weeks ago. It had been quite a shock, though looking back it had been pretty obvious the whole time. But who would ever think that a _blind_ man would jump across rooftops and beat up people? Well, she certainly didn't. Now she wasn't sure how to act around Matt any more. It was just … everything was so weird between the three of them. 

Foggy and Matt weren't talking any more. Foggy and Karen got along fine. And Matt and Karen just kind of danced around each other, trying to act normal. It didn't work. 

Matt stood in the kitchen for a few minutes, collecting himself, before he called Karen, told her about Stark's visit and asked if he'd been at her place, too. He hadn't. That was good. It was good, right? They were safe. Tony wasn't the kind of guy who'd hurt good people on purpose. Now Matt wasn't so sure if he was a good man – probably not – but there was no doubt about Foggy and Karen. 

They'd be fine.

Him? Not so much.

 

Tony had run out of ideas. His visits hadn't gotten him anything new, one of the bugs he had to take back with him and the other one had gone quiet a few minutes after he had left Murdock's place. Maybe he should just try the other way again? Flying over the city and searching himself. 

 

Two nights later, he convinced himself to go out into the cold night. To his own surprise, it only took him about half an hour until he saw a dark figure on a rooftop, crouched down on the very edge of it. Tony quickly landed behind him and waited. He figured it was smarter to let the other man make the first move. 

For about a minute nothing happened. Then Daredevil spoke up without turning around. He seemed to be looking at something, head tilted to the side a little. “I heard you are looking for me.” Not that he hadn't noticed that earlier. He just hadn't been fond of talking to the scientist and as soon as he'd heard Iron Man's noise, he'd vanished. 

A shiver ran over Tony's back when the incredibly deep voice sent it's waves through his entire body. “Yeah.”, he replied. “I am.”

“Why.” Wow, that little word changed the mood on this lonely rooftop in under two seconds. Now the crouched down man sounded even more dangerous. Tony had seen him fight, he knew that he wouldn't stand a chance against him, outside of his suit anyway.

“Because I'm curious about you. Wanna know what drives you.”

Suddenly, Daredevil smoothly rose to his feet, shoulders back, head high. Like a cougar, ready to jump. His red suit shone in the light of the moon and the little horns threw small shadows. “I will not be one of your little toys!”, he growled. “You will not get to invade _my_ city. You will leave me alone and never approach me again. Is that clear?”

“Uh … well, yeah, but I have one question left. I've flown around here before. I never found you, so I suppose you knew I was there and chose to take off.” No reaction from the other one. “Why didn't you take off this time?”

Remember how I said he looked scary before? Well, now he bloody _smirked_ and that made him look absolutely terrifying. 

“Nobody can run forever.” With that he _jumped off the rooftop_ and only seconds after his last words, there was no sign of him left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so guilty for describin Matt as the better looking one, I'm so sorry :<


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I read over it again, so I guess it's alright now.  
> I have got no idea where this thing is going though. There could be smut, there could be Foggy/Matt or Clint/Matt or just straight up drama.  
> I think I'll go with drama though. With loads of comfort :>
> 
> Also: I'm living for your guy's comments

It wasn't until nearly four months after their encounter on the rooftop, that Tony next heard from Daredevil. Or rather didn't. There hadn't been any sightings of him in three weeks, the news were already speculating about him having retired – ridiculous, really – and the papers thought he was dead. 

So naturally, Tony got worried. And when he was worried, he started digging. Again. And he found: nothing. Nada. Not a single piece of information. Well, apart from the missing person report, filed for the blind lawyer Matthew Michael Murdock, who'd gone missing at the same time Daredevil vanished. 

Maybe they both got kidnapped? Because that something like an abduction was the case here, was obvious. At least to Tony.

Then he got the idea of tracking the last criminals that were brought in by the Devil. And he read their files, paid them visits in prison and collected everything there was. Wasn't a lot, but a start. 

A few days later he put the pieces together – and called Bucky and Steve.

 

_There was a sound. Something loud. Like … metal? On … something. Matt flinched when the sudden sound of several heartbeats hit his eardrums like explosions. There shouldn't be so much noise! There should be … he didn't know. Was he even awake? He wasn't sure. This wasn't right, he should be out in the city, fighting, he should fight! Though he also didn't know against what. Or whom. He wasn't aware of the quiet whimper that left his throat._

“... Murdock?!” Tony looked at the man, laying on the floor of his concrete-cell, facing the wall. The three Avengers had fought their way through about twenty guards until they had found the small room. Now they were all standing in the destroyed door and stared at the semi-conscious figure in front of them. He wasn't wearing anything but some dirty briefs. His pale skin was covered in cuts and burns and additionally, everything was all kinds of shades from blue, over purple to green and yellow. Not pretty. 

Not far away from him laid a small hump of clothes, on top of it a helmet with horns. Now. How the fuck could a _blind_ man fight against anything?? He was blind!! And yet, it was the only solution possible, because apart from Matt, there was nobody left in the building. 

Bucky didn't say a single word, Steve let out a shocked gasp and Tony tried to hide his distress. He sat down next to Matt, who was still laying on his side, and petted his shoulder. He didn't really know what to do in this kinda situation. And the reaction he got didn't improve anything. 

Matt flinched away and drew in on himself even harder, hands gripping his hair desperately. His whole body was trembling. 

“It's okay, Murdock, it's me, Tony Stark? We met.”, he tried. Reaction: zero. 

Steve joined them on the floor and gently rolled him onto his back. Matt arched his back, hands pressed on his ribcage. His face was showing nothing more than pain and fear, his breathing was shallow and rattling and fast.

Ironic, really. The man without fear was scared to death. Though that was only natural, assuming he'd been kept in this bunker for three weeks and obviously he'd been tortured. A lot. He was lucky to still be alive. 

Though 'lucky' might be the wrong word.

“Um … Daredevil?”, Steve spoke up. “We are here to save you.” He touched the dark haired man on his chest, trying to provide comfort, but he caused kind of the opposite. Matt first jerked away from the touch, then he suddenly somehow managed to roll on his side again – just barely – and threw up. It wasn't much, just some nasty disgusting slime, but he kept dry-heaving for a few seconds, wheezing heavily, until he collapsed completely and went limp. 

“He's passed out.”, Steve pointed out. 

“Thanks, Steve, I hadn't noticed.”, Tony snapped. He didn't feel too well. “Now let's get him outta here.”

 

Matt woke to the sound of heartbeats, steady and moving around in the room. He was still too deep in unconsciousness to find out exactly how many people there were, what the room he was in looked like or where an exit was. All he did know, was that he was apparently laying on some kind of bed, and that said bed was really hard and scratchy and he didn't like it. There was also a funny itch in his left hand and something caged his chest, wrapped tightly around his torso.

Those were the first things he felt. 

The problem with being awake though, he quickly realized, was that his brain didn't only register noise and smell and basic sensation, but also pain. Raw, hot pain everywhere. He felt like his entire body was on fire, flames eating his skin away, burning through muscles and down to his bones. 

To his agony, his thinking was too sluggish to focus on anything, he couldn't keep all the different noises apart, the smell of disinfectants stung in his nose and his head was pounding dully. Therefore the pain was even worse, because he had no distraction. 

A faint thought crossed his mind and threw him back to his time with Stick, who had – quite a few times – tied him to a chair – naked – and had then pressed hot iron into various places of his body. Enough to leave permanent marks and certainly enough to make him think he was in hell. He could still smell his own burned flesh, feel his screams of anguish in his sore throat. God, how he had screamed. And Stick had kept going, until Matt, a boy of eleven years, had gone silent when his last strength had left his small body. Well that and he had gotten so used to the constant pain, that after about eight hours the red-hot metal had felt like ice on his tormented skin.

He had learned his lesson: do not, under any circumstances, show pain, or it will never stop. Though now, after what felt like an eternity of torture, he wasn't so sure about that any more.

Matt forced an angry groan through gritted teeth, trying to regain control over his mind. He didn't want Stick inside his head. Not any more. Not now, not ever! 

Muffled voices came closer, probably speaking to him, asking questions. But he couldn't answer! He wouldn't give in! He had fought for so long, had survived so much, he couldn't just give up. No, he wouldn't talk!

Then there were hands on him, touching his chest, keeping him down. Matt let out a raw scream, struggling weakly against his attackers. He tried to sit up, but pain jolted through him, letting his mind go blank as he gasped for air. 

Only a few moments later he could feel a weird, light feeling take over his weak body, but he didn't fight it. Instead he welcomed the numbness that now took over and led him back into unconsciousness. Less to care about there, in the quiet darkness. No world on fire to worry about.

 

The next time Matt came to, everything was quiet. As far as he could hear, there was nobody in the room with him.

He groaned, when he slowly felt the pain seeping back into his awareness, at the same time his body seemed to get heavier, the more he woke up, gravity pressing him into a soft mattress. So he was in a bed again. Good. That was good, right? He hadn't had a bed before. What had he done to deserve this now, all of a sudden??

“Hello Mr. Murdock.”, somebody with an English accent suddenly greeted, causing Matt first to jump and then to freeze, gaze fixed unseeingly on the ceiling. “Nice to have you back.”

He sucked in a shaky breath, frantically searching for the source of the unfamiliar voice, but he couldn't pick up any indication of the presence of another human being. “Who's … who's there?”, he eventually croaked, trying to hide his panic. “Where am I?”, he then added. 

“My name is Jarvis.”, the voice introduced itself. “I am the artificial intelligence of Stark Tower. I protect the building and observe everything that is happening inside through cameras. Every footage is then checked by Mr. Stark.”

“... Why are you telling me this?” Matt had relaxed a little bit – his body, anyway – but he was still clutching the sheets with both hands. He didn't like the voice, coming from nowhere and everywhere at once.

“Mr. Stark told me to do so. He said you might feel safer if you knew where you are. He said the more information you have, the less scared you might be.”

“Who says I'm scared?” He defensively sat up and swung his legs to the floor. That movement alone made him wince in pain. 

He ignored his spinning head and got up. His knees almost immediately buckled underneath him, but he forced himself to stand up until he stopped swaying. He could feel sweat running down his back already. 

“I would not advise you to leave bed already.”, Jarvis said, slightly concerned. “I will have to inform Mr. Stark that you are awake and up.”

“Do what you want.”, Matt huffed and slowly walked out of the bedroom, one hand on the wall. He didn't need it to guide him, but to hold up his weight. He didn't really trust his legs yet, but he still wanted to find out as much as possible about the place he was held at. 

The room he was now in, was much bigger than the other one. He had to concentrate hard, to listen to the air he breathed out, how it circulated through the room, making its wavy way around everything in its way, painting a picture in his head. 

One minute later and he knew the layout in front of him. 

There was a couch about four feet diagonally away from the door, where he was still standing, pretty much in the middle of what he supposed had to be a living room. Straight ahead from him was a kitchen corner, with a kitchen island attached to the wall and next to that was a table with a few chairs. In front of the sofa, coming from the wall, was some electronic humming. Probably a TV. 

This was a flat. A whole apartment, and he was alone in it. Now what kind of kidnappers were these people?? First he had thought they'd just come to kill him, to end his misery and then then he had thought they'd just take him somewhere else, but now he didn't know what to think any more. 

He just wanted to go home. 

Better take a break first though.

He had nearly reached the couch, staggering along on wobbly legs, when suddenly he heard the wall where the table was standing, _slide open_. He blinked a few times in confusion, until his tired brain found the word 'elevator' in the back of his head.

Ah. Right. 

Two men exited the lift and adrenaline made an appearance, shooting through Matt's veins with full force. He quickly brought his shaking hands up into something like a defensive position in front of his chest, as he tried to figure out whether or not he'd be able to make it to the elevator and escape, without collapsing on the way. He realized that he wasn't even strong enough to stand properly. 

“It's alright, Mr. Murdock.” The left man rose his hands in the attempt of calming him down, but he seemed careful, on edge, like he was cornering a wounded animal. “You are safe here. Nobody is going to hurt you.”

However, the calmly spoken words did nothing to keep Matt from starting to pant harder, as his heart throbbed in his chest, fast and on high alert. Fear had taken over and he hated it. 

“I'm Tony Stark, we've met before. I visited you because I wanted to meet Daredevil, remember? Makes sense that you didn't want to arrange that, though. Because you are, in fact, Daredevil, aren't you?”

“Tony …” That was the second man, warning the other one. Then he cleared his throat. “My name is Clint Barton, I'm with the Avengers. Do you believe us?”

Clint seemed to be different. He didn't just randomly assume things, but actually asked. But regardless of the men's effort to reassure Matt, he let out an ironic chuckled. “I … I don't believe, believe you.”, he managed to get out, though he had to take several breaths in between. “You better say what you want from me or I'll kick your asses.” This time he managed to say the whole sentence with only two deep breaths in between, but they all knew it was an empty threat. For the moment, anyway.

“You shouldn't even be able to walk around yet.”, Tony suddenly said. 

“Why, did you drug me?” God, he hoped not. Great. Now he also had tears in his eyes. That was totally gonna keep them from hurting him. 

“No, we just gave you some painkillers. But you are so heavily injured, everybody else would've been happy to stay in bed.” Clint actually sounded impressed. 

“Yeah, you're some strong son of a Bitch.” Tony grinned. “You even punched Bruce the first time you woke up, while he was stitching you up.”

“Yeah? Well I'm not really a very trusting person.” Matt was kind of satisfied that he had managed to still fight back, although he didn't remember it. A sudden movement of air brushed against his skin, making him shiver. He had temporarily forgotten that he didn't wear a shirt, but now he did and he hated being seen like this, so he crossed his arms in front of his bandaged chest. They had to think he was weak and a bad fighter, with all the scars covering his torso. Then again, they had probably seen him naked already. Somebody did namely undress him at one point, because he wasn't wearing his old, dirty brief any more, but sweatpants instead. 

He hoped they'd burned them. 

“How do you mean?”

“You wouldn't just go to sleep at a strangers house, without knowing what's even going on, would you.” He was by now so tired, he could just fall asleep while standing. 

“Right. Of course not.” Clint carefully stepped closer, but stopped when Matt flinched away. He probably would have taken a few steps back, but he was too weak to do so. “My good friend Tony here got worried when there weren't any new sightings of … Daredevil, so he started to look for him and eventually he, Steve and Bucky found you in the basement of an abandoned building and brought you here.”

Matt remained silent for a few long moments. He had listened to both their heartbeats the entire time. Neither had indicated any lies, yet he didn't trust the peace. Eventually he asked: “Where is here?” Yes, that Jarvis-guy had already said it, but he didn't trust the bodiless voice either. Better have some actual living people repeat it.

“Stark-Tower.”, Tony replied. “My tower. We patched you up. You were out for two days. I'm still surprised that you're already walking again.” He really had no idea how stubborn Matt could be. “You are free to go wherever you want, but Bruce said it'd be better, if-”

“I wanna go home.” His voice alone made clear that there wasn't going to be a debate about that. “And I need a decent shirt.”

“... Of course. There's a few in the closet in the bedroom. I'll fetch one for you?” Clint waited until Matt nodded and then slowly walked around him, careful not to scare him even more. 

“I will drive you to your apartment.” They both knew he wouldn't be able to walk any further than to a car, so again he nodded. 

Then Clint came back and handed him a shirt. “Thanks.”, he quietly said and slowly put it on. It was painful and took him ages, but he finally managed it and successfully ignored the gazes of the two men. He could _feel_ their pity on him, crawling under his skin and making him feel even more pathetic and weak and stupid, so stupid for letting himself be kidnapped. He should have been able to fight them! He should have seen them coming! He should have done better. 

But he hadn't.

“Let's go.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Attempted kinda sarcastic humor I think and like a shitload of hurt and little comfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this one is longer than my usual ones I think, also I feel like another writer's block is coming up. God, I hope not.

“What's he doing?”

“Looks like he's screaming.” 

“...what?”

“Yeah, he's kinda losing his shit, like, throwing things around.”

“Do we … do we interfere?”

“I think the better question is: do we _want_ to interfere?” Clint rubbed over the stubble on his chin. “I mean you've seen him fight on those tapes and he's clearly the better hand-to-hand-fighter, you know that.”

“But he's still heavily injured. Surely he wouldn't be much of a challenge?” Tony threw a small ball from one hand to the other and back, speaking to the archer over their comms, who was currently observing Matthew Murdock, who had returned to his apartment not too long ago. “Besides, he'd probably just run, if he heard us coming.” 

“You shouldn't underestimate him, Tony. He's strong.” Clint changed the angle of his field glass a little, so he could see better.

The lawyer had spent the first ten or fifteen minutes standing in the middle of his living room, not moving a single muscle. He had clutched his cane to his chest with both hands, jaw clenching every now and then. 

But after that, he had suddenly gone into rage-mode, had thrown his cane away, screamed after it and had finally slumped down against his couch. He had pulled his knees to his chest, crossed his arms on top of them and then buried his face in the crook of his left arm. 

Even over the distance that separated the Avenger and the Vigilante, Clint could see the other man's body being shaken by heavy sobs. He felt weird, watching him having a nervous breakdown, like an intruder. But they had in the end agreed that they couldn't leave Matt on his own. 

_“He's a grown man, Cap.”, Tony said._

_“I know that, but he's just been held captive for three weeks.”, Steve snapped. “He got tortured. A lot. And we don't know anything about him!”_

_“Yeah, right, what if he goes crazy and suddenly starts hurting people – oh, wait, right, sorry. He already does.” Sam wasn't a big fan of Daredevil. “He's none of our business. He doesn't even live in our neighbourhood.”_

_“He does not seem like an evil man.”, Thor argued. “I believe he is only trying to help, and I believe he deserves our help now.”_

_“I agree with Thor.” Clint then looked over to Tony. “I thought you were curious about him and wanted to meet him? Why miss your ultimate chance?”_

_“I just don't see a point in stalking him.”, he huffed back._

_“You are like the stalking-king.”, Bruce grinned._

_“True.” Eventually Tony sighed. “Fine, but it's your fault if he finds out about it and hates me. I'll blame you all.”_

_“Ooh, so that's what this hesitation is about.”, Natasha finally snickered. “You are scared that he won't love you back.”_

_“Shut up.”_

And now here they were. Clint had agreed to take the first shift, Steve would take over in about two hours and Tony checked in every now and then to stay up-to-date. 

“What's he doing know?”, Tony asked. “Anything new?”

“Well, it seem he calmed down a little. I think he's nearly over this one.” Clint took a sip from the bottle of water he had brought with him. “Though it won't be the last one.” They all knew how affecting these kinda things could be. And they didn't even know the whole story about this one. “No, wait, something's happening.” He straightened in his position and lowered his voice to a whisper. He was well aware that Matt couldn't hear him, but something about his behaviour made him not want to talk loudly. “He's like … he looks like he's waiting for something? I dunno, he sort of tilted his head. Now he's getting up. Jesus, he looks like he's in pain.” 

Matt walked out of Clint's field of view and remained gone for a good few minutes, until finally he re-entered the living room. Another man followed him. They both looked upset, the blond new guy also kinda angry. 

“There's a man, they seem to know each other. I think they're arguing, but I don't know what they're saying.” They had kept from placing another bug in Matt's flat, considering how well that last time had gone. 

“What does he look like?”

“Umm … a little bit shorter than Murdock, blond hair – a little longer – and not too thin.”

“That sounds like his former business partner, Franklin Nelson. They have – or rather had – a law-firm together.”, Tony said. “I told him what happened. Roughly.” 

“Wow. Great.”, Clint huffed, as he kept watching the two fighting men. “He looks pissed off.”

“Yeah, I think they got some serious shit going on.”

“Sure looks like it.”

 

They had kept an eye on Matt for four days, observing his surroundings and checking for possible threats, when Tony received a call. 

“This is Tony Stark, who's -”

“You said he was kidnapped!”, an angry voice interrupted him. “You didn't say he was nearly tortured to death!”

“I thought he'd want to tell you himself, Mr. Nelson. And evidently he did.”

“No, he didn't.”, Foggy snapped. “I figured it out by myself; I saw his wounds and the look in his eyes! He's traumatized!”

“So what do you wanna do now, huh? Yell at me?”

“I want you to take him with you to your tower and prevent him from killing himself.”

There was an uncomfortable silence between them for a few seconds, before Tony found his words again. “Did he … did he try something?” Concern cloaked his heart. They surely would have noticed that?

“Not actively, no. But he has neither eaten nor slept in the past three days. Usually he would have been up and running around in his stupid costume as soon as his wounds were stitched, but all he does now is laying in bed and staring at the same wall for hours before he rolls on his other side, but I have not once seen him sleep. He only gets up to go to the bathroom and denies every food I offer him.”

“Shit.” Tony ran his hand over his face. He hadn't realized how bad Matt really was. Maybe he should have noticed.

“Oh, that's not even all of it. Like that wouldn't be enough, he hasn't spoken a single word since he tried to get rid of me in the very first twenty minutes after he came home.”

“Okay, I'll be there in ten. Maybe warn him or something.”

 

Foggy put his phone back into his pocket and went to Matt. He sat down next to him, sighed and then said: “Tony is gonna come and pick you up soon.” He didn't get an answer – what a surprise – so he kept talking. “Maybe you should change into some clean clothes?” To his surprise he suddenly got something like a response: Matt actually let out something like a disapproving groan. 

Again Foggy sighed and got up to pack a bag for him. 

This was really not how he had imagined meeting Tony Stark. That one first time a few months ago had been rather unpleasant, considering he'd had to go bug-hunting afterwards, and now he was only here to pick up Matt. 

It was always about Matt. 

But of course Foggy knew that his friend's life was more important than some hurt feelings.

Ten minutes after the call, Tony rushed into the apartment. He went straight into the bedroom – and instantly wished he could leave again.

Matt was laying on his side, curled up under his blanket. He looked like he had aimed for his pillow but missed, so now his head was laying on the mattress, his unseeing eyes staring ahead, only blinking once a minute or even less. His dark hair looked greasy, he still hadn't shaved, and he was smelly. 

He'd already grown a beard in the time he'd been missing and everybody had assumed he'd take it off as soon as possible – it wasn't really his style – but apparently they had been wrong. Then again, it wasn't really surprising, considering he didn't seem to have the strength for anything.

“Hey there, good to see you again.”, Tony said, trying to keep his voice light. “You friend Nelson here called me because he's worried about you.” No reaction. “He wants us to help you.” A blink. “But for that you will have to come with me. Don't worry, we won't force you to do anything you don't want.” He waited a few seconds, watching him closely, before he added: “Is that okay for you?”

Matt had raised his eyebrows into a slightly confused frown, his lips were parted a little, like he wanted to say something but then decided against it and ended up pressing them into a thin line. 

Eventually he nodded. It was a slow and heavy motion, as if his head was being held down by an invisible force, but he did it. His eyes looked moist though.

“Okay, that's great.” Tony smiled. “Now you have to get up, so we can walk down to my car and drive to my tower.” He felt like he was talking to a child, but he figured that didn't matter at the moment.

Again Matt managed to nod. He felt like he was somewhere deep underwater, informations took ages to reach his brain and at the same time he felt incredibly heavy, moving seemed impossible. 

And yet he had to. For Foggy, he had to convince his limp legs to obey his orders again, had to make them carry his weight. Foggy wanted him to go with Stark, so he would, even though he was probably just trying to get rid of him. He was faintly aware that his behaviour had to be tiring. Maybe he should have eaten something? Or maybe some sleep would have calmed Foggy down.

Ever so slowly he sat up and put his feet on the cold floor. He tried to ignore the sharp pain that kept shooting through his entire body, tormenting his sore muscles and burning in his wounds. 

“Do you want me to help you?”, Tony asked, already coming close, but Matt flinched away the second he felt the air shift, and Tony immediately took a step back. “If you want.” He still couldn't understand how a blind man knew these kinda things.

Mat tried to hide his breathless pants as he considered the pros and cons of such help, but he eventually realized that he'd probably fall face down on the floor without someone to hold him up. Even if he hated it, he knew he had to accept the offer, so again he nodded.

 

“Okay everyone, this is Matthew Murdock.” Tony proudly stood next to Matt – who was scared as hell, but he'd never admit to that – and grinned at the other Avengers, staying in front of him and looking a little sceptical. Well Sam did. Clint smiled back warmly, Bucky nodded, Steve said 'Hello' and Natasha raised an eyebrow. Bruce wasn't present, because he was occupied with not-turning-green. He was having a bad day. 

Matt just wished he was somewhere else, all those looks on him made him extremely uncomfortable, those hungry eyes, longing for informations. For a story. He knew he wasn't important, he wasn't someone they cared about. He guessed they'd just taken him in because Tony kind of liked him. He would never have believed that Thor of all people had stood up for him and that Clint had joined him immediately.

To his relief Clint and Tony now brought him up to his room. No, wait, that's not quite right. It wasn't only a room, but the flat he had woken up in before. He didn't know why they had a spare flat, but he didn't ask. Then again, he still hadn't said a word and he wasn't going to any time soon. 

“So this is your flat. I guess you remember Jarvis?” Tony led him to the bedroom. “He's always there – except in the bathroom, obviously – and he'll help you with anything you might need. He'll also call one of us if he thinks you … need somebody.” He left out the 'to keep you from killing yourself' – part. “Or you tell him to call us.”

“You will also need to see a therapist twice a week.”, Clint added. He sounded a little concerned about whether or not the other man would approve that. “She will come here, though.” 

Matt only nodded. He figured the best thing he could do was obeying the other men. After a few more seconds of awkward standing-around and staring at each other, the two Avengers left. Matt just wanted to go back to bed and never leave it again, but he already felt really dirty and by now he could notice his own bad smell, so he figured that he might as well take a short shower, now that he was up for once. 

He ended up standing under the – probably too – hot spray of water for nearly an hour, letting the drops drum on his skin, irritating his wounds. He was just letting his fingers trail over one awfully large cut, when he heard a voice calling from outside. 

“You in the shower, Matthew?” It was Clint. “I got some food for you.” 

Matt had already opened his mouth to tell him to go away, but he didn't have the strength to make his vocal cords work. He sighed in frustration and stepped out of the shower. He dried himself of as quickly as possible, trying not to rip open his stitches, and put on some fresh sweatpants he found on the toilet lid. Somebody must to have put them there, but forgot a shirt. He debated inside his head for several minutes if he should maybe just stay here until Clint left, but somewhere in the back of his head he knew that that would be rude, and Foggy wouldn't like it if he was rude to the people that were trying to help him.

So he exited the bathroom and stood directly in the warm cloud of a pleasant smell. There was rice and onions and vinegar and a hint of thyme. It smelled nice. Matt could hear his own stomach growl, but he didn't know if he was capable of eating right now. Or ever. He just wanted to sleep and never wake up again, but at the same time he was afraid of his dreams. One night of the worst nightmares imaginable had been enough to make him terrified of sleeping and he knew exhaustion would take over soon. 

So maybe eating was the better option here. 

He turned his attention back to Clint, who was still waiting for something like a reaction, and turned his hearing back on. He was way too tired to concentrate on two things at the same time, so he wasn't sure if he had missed another question. Not that he would've answered anyway. 

“Let's sit on the couch and have dinner, yeah?” 

The two men went to the sofa and sat down next to each other – with quite some distance though – and Clint handed him a bowl of hot food. Matt slowly took one of the portions offered to him and grabbed a fork. He doubtfully sniffed the warm steam rising to his nose. He was well aware of the attention Clint was paying him, although he didn't seem to be looking at him directly. 

He hesitated for quite a while longer, holding the loaded fork somewhere in mid-air, halfway to his mouth. Then suddenly he thought 'screw it' and put it _into_ his mouth. 

The first bite was like an explosion, so many different spices were swirling around, mixing together and making his tongue burn, but in a pleasant kind of way. He loved it. 

Clint chuckled. “You look surprised. Is it good?” He only got another nod for an answer, but he didn't mind. He wasn't going to judge this man next to him, who had went through hell and was now trying to cope. Or not. But he'd try to help him either way, he'd try to help him get over his trauma, if he wanted it or not. It surely wouldn't be easy, but what ever was in this tower?

 

They kept eating in silence, until Clint turned on the TV and switched through a few channels until he stopped at a show called 'The end of the fucking world'. 

“I love this one.”, he said. “It's kinda fun and kinda weird, but also kinda awesome.” 

Matt put away his half-empty bowl and drew his attention to the series. Although he had loved the taste of the food, he simply couldn't keep eating. It was like his stomach had shrunk, nothing would fit in, even though he clearly needed it. 

Clint, however, only paid half attention to the TV, always keeping an eye on Matt. He seemed really tired, his eyes closed every few minutes, already on the verge of falling asleep, but he always jumped awake again, breath quickening until he was sure he was still in the same place where he'd been two minutes ago. 

Until one time he didn't. 

It took Clint a few moments to notice it, but eventually he registered the soft snoring coming from his right. Matt had slumped down on the armrest, mouth hanging slightly open. He didn't look very peaceful, like you might have thought, his eyes were moving under his closed lids and his hands were twitching constantly, though he didn't look like he was going to have another nervous breakdown any more. 

Well that was until he let out one quiet whimper after the other, his hands were trembling now, sweat was forming on his chest and palms and he had curled up into a shaking ball. He was also mumbling, his lips forming unrecognisable expressions. The only words loud enough to be understood, though, were pleas for mercy. Pleas for death. 

_Please, just kill me!_

“Matthew?” Clint knew better than to touch the vigilante, so he limited to calling his name. Although he'd only known the other man for a fairly short time, he'd already grown attached to him. He wasn't sure why, but he really wanted to help this guy. Make him feel alright. Because at the moment, he was broken and scared and probably wished he was dead. And that wasn't right. 

“What-who-where am I!” His shaky voice sounded strained and rough as he jumped awake, shooting up until he was sitting bolt-upright. His terrified form didn't remind much of the collected lawyer from a few days ago, who had tried so hard to keep himself together. Now he was a mess. 

“You're still in Stark-Tower. I'm Clint and you are safe. It's currently 4pm, you only slept for about 20 minutes.”, the archer quickly said. He had learned very quickly how to effectively bring somebody back from a flashback or a nightmare. “You with me?”

“I-I … I don't …” Matt inhaled sharply. “Yeah.”, he then croaked. “Yeah, 'm here.” He was still shaking, hands clutching into the fabric of the couch. After a short silence, only broken by his breathless pants, he quietly confessed: “I don't want to sleep.” He could feel the curse break that had prevented him from speaking before, that had locked his lips together. 

“I figured.” Clint smiled sympathetically. “But you have to, eventually.” He was just glad to hear the other one talking again. He had already started wondering how long it would take. He'd only seen somebody lose his voice once before, and that was when he'd rescued a boy out of a hostage-situation, whose parents had both been tortured, his mother been raped and in the end gotten killed, and all of that right in front of the 10 year old. The boy hadn't talked for a month. The avenger wondered how bad something had to be to have such an effect on a grown man, even though it had 'only' been less than a week. 

“I know.”

“Do you want to tell me why you don't want to sleep exactly?”

“Last time I fell asleep I woke up tied to a chair with a knife in my shoulder.” And that had only been the beginning of it. Much worse things had followed.

“Shit.”, Clint muttered. “What did they even want from you??”

“Not they. She.” Disgust was dripping from his voice as he corrected the other one. Disgust and fear. “She wanted revenge.”

“... for what?”

But Matt just shook his head and shot a sad smile at him. “Doesn't matter.” With that he got up, wincing in pain when he felt his stitches pull, pain shooting through his body. He slowly walked into the bedroom. He wasn't ready to talk about it, yet. Maybe he'd never be ready. So instead he laid down on the bed and curled up underneath the covers. To his surprise they were silk and the mattress was pretty soft. He hadn't noticed the first time he'd been here, but in his defence: he'd been scared shitless and had thought he was still held captive.

Now he was still scared shitless, but somewhere in the back of his head he knew that the people in this building wouldn't hurt him. Hopefully. 

 

Some time later Clint came in and put a glass of water and a pill on his nightstand. He seemed to want to say something, but then he thought better of it and left without speaking a word. 

Matt didn't even think before swallowing the pill. He was just relieved to finally be able to drift back into a dreamless darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's not very long, sorry about that. It's also pretty heavy and there's (semi?) graphic descriptions of torture. Next chapter will be a little happier, promise.
> 
> I'm also really happy about all your comments, every time I read them they brighten my day. Plus: I like your theories about 'the woman' and I laugh devilishly whenever I find a new one. I got plans for her and Matt and later on somebody else (a man :>) will appear and then SHIT'S GONNA GO DOWN, MY FRIENDS

Unfortunately, at some point later that night, the effect of the drugs wore off.

And Matt was back in that basement, tied to a chair, helpless. There were two heartbeats, steady and strong, but nevertheless a little fast. But not out of fear, or anything equally appropriate, no.

Out of excitement. 

Satisfied. Excitement. 

“You will pay for what you've done.”, a female voice coldly said, as soon as he had managed to pop open his eyes. She seemed faintly familiar. And dangerous. 

'I don't know what you're talking about.', he wanted to say, but then suddenly Stick's voice cut through his body like a blade of ice, making him want to throw up: “You're even too weak to fight a woman, kid. I thought you were worth training, but apparently you're just another piece of shit.”

“No!”, wanted to shout. “No, I didn't lose against her! They were six trained men!”

But not a single word left his mouth.

With unforeseen abruptness, the scene changed. Now Matt was hanging from a wall, hands chained above his head. 

“Who is he?!”, the woman asked, her voice still calm and controlled, but her heart was beating fast. 

“There is no one!”, he replied, trying to contain his panic. He had to keep himself from screaming in pain, instead narrowing it down to a rough groan, as sharp metal suddenly cut through his skin, leaving streams of blood running down his torso. The overwhelming smell of copper filled his nose and made it hard to smell anything else. “I'm alone! I'm all alone!”

“Oh, but I know who you love.” The grin in her voice was more than obvious. “Franklin Nelson.”Amazing how much these three words felt like a punch in the stomach, leaning no air for Matt to breath, choking him. “I will find him and I will hurt him and I will kill him right here, directly in front of you.”

He screamed.

 

“Hey, Matthew, hey, wake up.” Clint was standing in front of the lawyer's bed, debating inside his head whether or not to shake his shoulder. Matt was tossing and turning, the sheets had fallen to the floor, and the dark-haired man was screaming on the top of his lungs while tears were streaming down his face. Clint figured it couldn't get worse than it already was.

He was very very wrong. 

The second the archer's hand touched the vigilante's shoulder, he was awake. Matt shot up in his bed, ready to fight. He landed a hard punch on Clint's jaw, sending him stumbling backwards, and then practically jumped to his feet – his knees nearly buckled, but he refused to fall – and rushed out of the room and to the kitchen. 

Clint followed him quickly, rubbing his hurting jaw, and then stopped dead in his movement.

“Put down the knife, Matthew.” He carefully raised his hand, showing that he didn't wear a weapon. “You are safe. You are in Stark-Tower. You had a nightmare. It's 5am. Put down the knife.”

“I … I don't-don't believe you.” It was barely more than a whisper, but enough to be heartbreaking. Matt looked so small and scared and his whole body was trembling in fear, and yet he was holding up a huge kitchen knife, pointing into Clint's direction. Though it wasn't clear if he intended to hurt himself or somebody else. “I … I don't feel … don't feel safe.”

“Okay, then let me ask you a question.” He waited until the other one nodded before he continued. “Did I give you a reason, not to trust me?”

“… no?” God, Matt just wished he'd stop crying. Crying was weak. So weak. 

“That's good, right? And that's not gonna change.”

“You didn't … give me a reason to … to trust you, either.”, he quietly continued, hiding behind the shaking blade in his hand. 

“Well, then we have to change that.” Clint now slowly took a step forwards, surprised when the other one didn't retreat. “But for that you have to do something very important, so that I can trust you, too. Okay?” 

“… o-okay?”

“Give me the knife. I will put it back on the kitchen counter and then I will make you breakfast. Sound good?”

Matt took a few very deep breaths, throwing the sentence around in his head, until he finally nodded, silencing the voice in the back of his mind, screaming at him in terror. “Yeah.”

Clint stretched out his hand and waited patiently. 

It took him another few minutes of heavy breathing and building up the needed courage, before finally Matt took a step towards Clint and slowly gave him the knife. 

“Thank you.”, he simply said and did as he had said: put the weapon on the countertop. “See? All good. No pun intended.” That got him the hint of a smile, but only visible for like a second.

“I'm … I'm just … sorry.” Matt ducked his head in shame. 

“Sorry for what?” Clint frowned.

“Bothering you. And … punching you.”

“First: it was my fault, I shouldn't have touched you without warning. Second: you're not bothering me. I will put my hand on your shoulder now, if that's okay?” He waited for another nod before he gently let his hand lay on the broad shoulders of the other man, who instantly went rigid, but then seemed to force himself to relax. “I'm here because I want to help and because I don't think you should be alone. And I'm not going to be mad if you have nightmares and need somebody to talk to, or just to be there for you, or if you punch me because you're afraid after having a nightmare. I'm here, because I want to be.”

For a very long time Matt didn't say anything, but eventually he let out a shaky sigh. “Okay.”

“Awesome.” Clint smiled encouraging and gently led him to one of the chairs, sitting him down. “And now: breakfast.”

Matt wasn't too sure how he had gotten into this situation, but he could feel himself slowly falling into a deep darkness and he was alone and still scared and he couldn't help it, but at the same time there was Clint. A bright, huge flame, dancing angrily around him like a sun, grounding him, keeping him from loosing himself. It was a good thing. Or at least Matt hoped it was. 

 

Some time later that day – it was about noon – Tony came down to visit. Clint had left earlier, saying something about 'giving Matt some space'.

Now Matt was once again sitting on the couch, as far away from the elevator as possible. He had put on a movie on the gigantic TV and tried to focus on the plot, but whenever there was a noise, too loud, too sudden, too violent, he flinched. Brutal pieces of memories flashed through his brain, shreds of flames mixed together with the sound of his own horrible, strangled screams as he begged for mercy, begging them to just end it, to -

“Hey, there, how are you doing?”, Tony interrupted his train of thoughts. “Thought I'd check on you before the shrink comes around.”

Oh god. He'd completely forgotten that. Crap. “ … today?”, he weakly asked. 

“Yeah. She's a nice lady, don't worry.” He flopped down next to the other one and laid one arm on the backrest of the couch. “If you want I can stay with you, or we can call Clint back down.”

“No. It's … I'm good. Alone, I mean, I'll be okay.” He made a weak attempt of a smile and failed exceedingly. The truth was: he didn't want anybody to see his pathetic tries of forming proper sentences when being asked about what had happened in that basement. He wasn't even sure if he'd say anything at all. 

“Alright, that's cool. Just … talk to her.”

“Sure.”

 

Half an hour later and Tony left again, stepping into the lift while a woman stepped out of it. They nodded at each other.

She walked to Matt, who had managed to walk to the table, and sat down on the opposite side of him. He didn't say anything, giving no sign that indicated that he knew she was there, but he didn't even flinch when she spoke up: “Hi. My name's Alana Bloom. I'm here to talk about what happened to you. And help you handle it.”

Matt nodded. He was very well aware of why she was here. 

“Would you like to tell me what happened before you were abducted?” Again she didn't get any answer, but she did notice the slight frown on the man's face. She waited for another few minutes before she kept talking. “I understand if you don't want to talk, that's totally fine. You don't trust me yet and I don't blame you.” This time she didn't even get the hint of a nod, but instead Matt ducked his head in … what, shame? “I would, however, like you to do something for me.” Now he looked like she had punched him. “I have prepared a scale for you.” The frown intensified. “I want you to keep track of your emotions for the next week and mark them. It is a scale from one to ten, ten being really really bad, as in suicidal.” Lips a thin line, jaw clenched. “Nobody is going to blame you or make fun of you or see you as weak if you mark ten. I won't even tell the others, due to doctor-patient-confidentiality. Though I would recommend you to tell at least one person so they can help you.”

It was a stupid idea. He hated it the second he understood it. It was unnecessary and stupid and tiring and … stupid. He'd do it anyway. 

 

Alana didn't stay long. There really wasn't a whole lot of use in it. Tony had told her for how long he hadn't talked before and he still preferred a nod over an actual verbal answer. Most of the time he was simply too tired to form words. Too drained.

The second she said she'd leave, he got up and vanished into the bedroom, crawling under the sheets. He wanted to sleep for the rest of his life, but at the same time he couldn't. By now not even because of the nightmares any more – though they were many and terrifying and not nice – but more because he had managed to train his body into thinking it only needed four hours of sleep a night, tops. Well. He didn't really have much of a choice, though. His kidnappers hadn't respected his dire need of sleep.

“How'd it go?” That was Tony's voice, clear to Matt's ears, though normal people probably shouldn't be able to here the conversation. 

“I can't tell you that, Mr. Stark. He is my patient.” Alana sounded like she had told him that at least a million times already. 

“No, yeah, sure, I know. Just … how bad is he?” Wow. No false pretences here. 

“I can't really tell yet. He hasn't said a word.”

“Yeah, he kinda does that.”

“I know, you told me. I can't tell _how_ bad, but it _is_ bad. I gave him a scale though. Ask him yourself, but for the love of god, be subtle and don't approach him like you would do with one of your experiments.”

“And how would I do that?”

“Swan dive into the chaos without knowing what you're running into.”, she said with a dry voice.

“Hey that's not true, I do a lot of research before I start building something!”, he protested. 

Matt couldn't hear an answer to that, so he figured she was giving the engineer a death stare right now.

“Just keep an eye on him.”

“Yes, Ma'am.” The sound of elevator-doors closing resonated through the entire apartment and not long after footsteps came towards the bedroom. And indeed, a second later, Tony peeked inside, making sure the other man was decent, before entering. “Hello.”

Matt just grunted in response and curled up further under his sheets, pressing his face into a pillow. He didn't want to have this conversation. But he knew it was inevitable. “She told you about the scale.”

“… yes?” Surprise was dripping from his voice. “How'd you know?”

“Heard you. She explain it?”

“… we were in a different room!”, Tony exclaimed and now fully entered. “And no, she didn't.”

“Huh.” He though for a few seconds before waving at the door. “On the table. Explains itself.”

“Is it in Braille?”

“Yeah.”

“… I'll ask Jarvis.” With that he left again. He felt obviously not too confident around Matt – what a surprise, the blind dude is weird – and left him alone again. 

As soon as he heard the elevator doors close again, he hunched himself around another pillow, fingers digging into the soft fabric. He couldn't keep himself from crying, but he was desperate to keep it to himself, he had to find a way to muffle his sobs so Jarvis wouldn't hear him and alert somebody. Thus, he buried his teeth in his arm, the pain a welcome distraction to his empty, yet hurting heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not sorry about the Hannibal reference. 
> 
> For all those who didn't watch the series: Alana Bloom is a therapist, and once was both Hannibal's and Will's love interest until big shit happened and now she's living with her girlfriend/ wife/ whatever and they raise their child together. 
> 
> I basically just needed a name and couldn't think of anything else. I hate looking for names, I always end up using really weird ones or some from TV-Shows. Yay.
> 
> AND: There might be a writer's block comming up, but I'm not sure yet. Hope not.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so much fluff
> 
> And I love fluffy sleeping scenes. Don't judge me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a while, sorry for that. The next chapter will take quite some time, too, though. At least a week or two.

“Movie night!”, Tony called and practically fell out of the elevator. “And you will join us!”

“… what?” Matt rose from the couch with a start, standing a little precarious. His face was pulled into a confused frown. “Why?” He had lived in the tower for two weeks now and had kept mostly to himself, except for Clint's and Tony's visits. Well and Bruce's, who had checked his wounds. The sessions with his therapist were not going very well, he still hadn't said a word. He just couldn't bring himself to.

“Because today nobody is on a mission, I ordered take-out and you need to spend some time with us. You are living with us now, after all.” He grinned widely and went to the other man, leading him gently but determined inside the lift. “No excuses.”

“I … I don't know if this is a good idea.” He'd rather stay on his own couch, alone. 

“Oh, yeah it is. Better than staring at nothing all the time.” Tony shot a grimace at the vigilante. “Sorry, forgot. You get my point though.”

Great. So now Matt had to spend an entire evening with people he did neither trust nor like and had to pretend that he was fine for the whole time. What could possibly go wrong??

 

Turns out not even that much. Sure, the introduction was a little awkward, with everybody staring at him for a few seconds. But then Clint clapped his hands, yelled “Our king, we bow before you”, fell from the couch to his knees with a loud _thump_ noise and dramatically leaned over to place a kiss on Matt's fuzzy sock, which Foggy had given to him once. That had loosened up the tension in the room and everybody had gone back to some normal chattering, except for Natasha, who couldn't resist to slap Clint's head and say “Such a child”. 

Now Matt was sitting between the archer and Tony, who held a glass of Whisky in one hand and the remote in the other. “Sooo, what are we watching?”

“I'd go for Mamma Mia, since we haven't seen it yet.” Clint goofily grinned and sneaked his arm behind Matt's shoulders, who didn't complain but just kind of accepted it. 

“No, we haven't, but you've been trying to get us to watch it for an eternity.” Steve's exhale was loud and exaggerated, but the corners of his mouth twitched into a half-grin. 

“What? I like musicals.” Now he actually pouted. “But I really wanna watch it and it's fun and romance and there's singing and dancing.”

“I'm totally for watching a dance-movie.”, Matt muttered under his breath, but the others heard him anyway and _gaped_ at him in some kind of confused shock for a few seconds. He lifted his head a little and shrugged, a small smirk lingering on his lips. “What?”

“Did you just … was that just a blind joke?” Tony grinned. “Awesome.”

“I think I'm entitled to that.”, the lawyer answered, slowly growing more confident. “Don't you?”

“I dunno, man, I think blind people might find it offensive.”, Clint pointed out. 

“Yeah?” Matt frowned. “I didn't consider that. Apologies to all blind people.” Then he grinned a nearly full on grin. Without even noticing, he leaned more into Clint, who responded by now resting his hand on his shoulder. “So, Mamma Mia it is?”

The other Avengers had listened to their short conversation, still taken a little aback. It had been insomuch sarcastic, it was already dripping from the words. You could have filled a small pond with the sheer amount of sarcasm. Now though, they all broke into loud cackling (Tony), quiet chuckles (Steve), or wide grins (Natasha and Bruce). Bucky's lips were at least twitching, so he probably didn't hate Matt, which was a good sign. He was a super-soldier after all, and the lawyer wasn't sure if he could put up with him. Probably not.

Tony started the movie and soon most of the group were railing against the TV (they got very exited very fast), except for Bucky – who only groaned a few times, but otherwise managed to keep silent – and Matt, who was trying very hard to stay awake. 

That was for two reasons. First: he had nightmares like you couldn't imagine. They were bad enough to wake him up screaming, drenched in sweat and confused as hell. Most of the times he even forgot where he was. He had already managed to punch Clint _and_ Tony, Clint twice by now. 

The second reason was, that he felt really awkward about sleeping in front of six people. Usually he could more or less ignore his social anxiety, which kinda sucked as a lawyer by the way, but now he had a totally irrational fear of making a fool of himself or something. 

And yet, despite his inner rant at himself to pull himself together and force the sleepiness out of his limbs, he couldn't bring himself to reopen his eyes. He had, without noticing, leaned further into Clint's body. Now Matt's head was resting on the archer's shoulder, his arms were crossed in front of his torso and Clint had his arm put around him. 

 

At the end of the movie Matt was soundly asleep, breathing deeply and slowly. He had slipped off Clint's shoulder and was now resting on his chest, his steady heartbeat a constant sound in his ear. He had moved his hands from in front of his upper body down to Clint's left arm and was now holding on to it for dear life.

“Now look at that.”, Tony grinned and poked the sleeping man next to him.

“Leave him alone, Tony.”, Clint whispered, and slapped his hand away. “He needs it. Desperately.”

“I wasn't gonna do anything!”, he pouted. 

“Yeah, you were. Don't lie.” Natasha squinted at him. “You already did.” 

“Shut up!”

“You shut up, asshole!” 

“Language.”, Steve interrupted.

“If he wakes up because of you two and punches me again, I swear to god, I'm going to kill both of you!”, Clint growled. 

“If he's still asleep after your bickering, I doubt he'll mind if you continue.”, Bucky quietly interjected. He was, as always, sitting right next to Steve. It was the only place where he could relax, where he could feel safe. 

Now the Captain shot a grin at Bucky. “It figures.”

Clint just let out an annoyed huff and gently ran his fingers through Matt's dark hair. 

 

Suddenly Matt's calm body started shaking, hands twitching and his nails digging into Clint's arm so hard, it hurt. He seemed to be mumbling something, but nothing was to be heard. That was until he let out a terrified little yelp that got the attention of everyone in the room. 

“What's wrong?”, Tony asked and worriedly leaned over the still sleeping man. He gently stroked his forehead and then looked at Clint in expectation. “Is he okay?”

“It's just another nightmare, Tony.” He looked at the rest of the Avengers, who had gathered around the couch, and frowned. “You better take a step back. He tends to throw punches after one of these.”

“If you say so.” Steve did as he was told and motioned the others to do the same.

Then Clint carefully laid one hand on Matt's chest and softly spoke to him. “It's okay, Matthew. Wake up.” The reaction came as expected: the vigilante shot up with a start, blank eyes wide open, fists raised into Clint's direction, ready to fight. He was panting and sweat had formed on his face and chest. “Everything is alright, Matthew. You are safe. Nobody's here to hurt you.”

“I-I … I don't …” Matt took a shaky breath as he tried to focus on his surroundings. It didn't work. “I can't … I can't see!”

Tony and Natasha exchanged a look. “Yes, Matthew, I know.” Clint kept his voice calm and rubbed small circles into Matt's back. 

“No, no you … you don't … you don't understand!” It would be a lie to say that he didn't start crying right then and there, with several people standing around. “I'm … everything's dark!”

“... okay, we'll figure it out. It'll be fine. I'm sure everything will go back to the way it was, as soon as you calm down. I think you are having a panic attack, buddy.”

“No, but I can't see!”, Matt shouted, shot both hands forward and took hold of Clint's arm with an iron grip. “I can't _see_!” A terrible feeling of ice, dripping down his body, made him shiver. It was happening again. It was like that horrible day when he was nine years old, all over again. All that helplessness drowning him.

Too late he realized that somebody was still talking to him: “Matthew? Hey, can I call you Matt?” It was Tony, crouching in front of Matt's knees. “I'll call you Matt. Is that okay?”

What kind of a question was that now, all of a sudden? But yeah, it was okay. Foggy used to call him Matt. And Karen. Of course they had left from his life. Had left him. But they had called him Matt. So yeah, it was okay. He nodded. 

“Great, listen, I think good old Clint here is right, you are having a panic attack. That's nothing to be ashamed of, we've all been through that once or twice. Now. I want you to focus on my breathing. For that you'll have to let go of Clint's arm and put your hand on my chest, so that you have better grounding. You hear me?”

After a few seconds of considering this, Matt nodded. He slowly opened his hands, suddenly realizing how hard he had been gripping Clint. He winced at the thought. Then he turned to Tony and reached out for him, hand wavering in the air, until a warm, gentle hand took his and guided it against Tony's chest. 

Together they breathed, deep and consistent, starting with a heavy sigh, until eventually Matt could follow his own exhales through the room again, bouncing off of all the objects, until he could finally get his world on fire back up. He was so relieved, he started crying. 

“Hey, it's okay?” Clint's voice went up a little at the end of the sentence, making it sound a little bit like a question. 

The other Avengers shifted uncomfortably in their seats, until Tony motioned them to leave. But of course Matt picked up on the air shifting. He cleared his voice in the attempt to fight back the tears – it did not work – and sat up. “It's … it's okay. You can stay, I'm … I'm fine.” 

Literally everyone in the room had to keep from rolling their eyes, but they still settled back down. 

“Do you … want to tell us where you currently are on Ms. Bloom's scale?” Clint leaned forward and rubbed small circles into Matt's back. 

“I um … I think … a a six maybe?” He lowered his head and rubbed over his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“Okay, thank you for telling us, Matthew.” Clint smiled at him encouragingly. It wasn't a good number, but at least he wasn't trying to play it down. Though knowing Matt, he was probably more at a seven or eight than a six. But he seemed to believe his own words, so it was fine. 

“Matt.” He lifted his head again and tried a weak smile. “You can call me Matt. If you … if you like.”

“Of course we'd like that, you little plum.” Tony grinned happily about his nickname being accepted, sat down next to him and put his arm around his shoulder, pushing Clint away in the process. “We all like you and we all care about you.”

“I … I guess?”

“That wasn't a question.”, Clint laughed, a warm and light sound. 

“Oh.” He smiled sheepishly. “I thought … nevermind.” 

Whoever it was that had taught Matt he wasn't loved, that he wasn't _worth_ loving, Clint wanted to punch and kill that person, personally. Combined with torture, if possible. “Believe me when I say this: we don't just randomly pick up vigilantes and nurse them back to health. Tony … kind of had a thing for you, which is why he looked for you when you went missing. And I can see why he felt that way. You are an amazing man, Matt.” 

“Umm … thanks. I guess.” Matt brought his hand up from his lap and squeezed Clint's thigh with a small smile playing around the corners of his mouth. 

“I still do, by the way.”, Tony piped up and grinned fondly at the blind man. “You are one fine son of a bitch.”

That actually got a chuckle out of Matt, low and quiet, coming from the depths of his chest. It was a nice sound, warm and calm and so very different from his usual voice. Not that they had actually heard his voice properly until now. Except for Tony, who had met him before the whole kidnapping-incident. 

Also: Matt's cheeks turned a shade pinker at the odd compliment. Matt. The Devil of Hell's kitchen _blushed_. Now wasn't that amazing?

“Alright, sorry for interrupting your pathetic flirtations, but I got a question.”, Natasha suddenly interrupted. “How do you do it? You are blind.”

“Tash, maybe another time?”, Clint tried to stop her and pulled the other man closer again, but Matt gently freed himself and sat up.

“I guess … I guess you have to think of it as more than just five senses. I can't see. Not like everyone else. But I can feel. Things like balance and direction. Micro-changes in air density, vibrations, blankets of temperature variations. Mix all that with what I hear, subtle smells. All those fragments form a sort of … impressionistic painting.” He paused briefly. “It's a little freaky.”

“No, that's awesome!” Yes, Tony, everybody knows how excited you can get over these kinda things. 

“But … have you always had those abilities?” Natasha didn't seem very impressed. 

“No. I had an accident as a kid and got some chemicals spilled into my eyes that enhanced my other senses. And then an old man, blind like me, trained me. Well, not exactly like me, but close enough.” Before anyone could ask, he clarified: “I don't want to talk about him.”

“Sure thing, Cherry.” Tony ruffled Matt's hair. Then he took a look at his watch. “Jesus, it's late already.” It was 9pm. “I think it's time for bed.” To his relief, Matt nodded in agreement. “I'll take you upstairs.” 

Clint felt a little sting of jealousy at that, which, seriously? He was married and had two kids! And Tony had had a crush on the lawyer since the beginning! But now that he actually got to know him, he found himself thinking more and more about that man. 

He really had to get that under control. 

 

A few minutes later and Matt stepped out of the elevator, followed by Tony. 

“Hey Matt?”, he asked, suddenly a little anxious. “Would you mind if I staid here tonight? With you, I mean?”

“Umm … I don't think so.”, Matt slowly answered, surprised by the question. “It's fine.” To say the truth, he was feeling kind of happy about the question. He felt safe with Tony and the thought of being close to somebody made his heart ache with longing. He hadn't realized how lonely he'd become until now. How isolated. He wasn't exactly sure how Tony had gotten this idea today of all days, but it probably didn't matter. 

A faint smile flashed over Matt's face as he made his way to the bedroom. He put off his socks and sweatpants so he was left in his shirt and briefs and slipped under the cool covers of the bed. Tony seemed a little hesitant, but then he followed Matt's lead, stripped down to his boxers and got in next to the lawyer. There was a few minutes of slightly awkward position-adjusting, until Matt gathered all of his courage.

“Can you, um … could you, or would you want to uh …” He made a vague gesture with his hand while searching for the right word. “Spoon.”

Tony breathed out a voiceless laugh and inched closer. “Of course I'd like that, Plum.” He waited for Matt to lay comfortably on his side, before he pressed himself against his back. Then he slipped one arm between the mattress and Matt's neck, while he let his elbow come to rest on his hip and pull him closer by his chest. 

Matt let out a soft little noise and curled up in the embracement. “Thanks.” He deeply inhaled Tony's sweet scent, a mix between blueberries with Scotch and a hint of motor oil. His heartbeat sounded deeply in his ear.

“Always, honey. Just gotta ask.”

It was surprising how calm Tony could be when there was nobody around. How soft. He had put down his armour of sarcastic jokes and disarming grins and instead relaxed completely. Right now all he wanted to do was give his new friend some comfort, to make him feel loved and safe. 

Matt probably would have kept thinking about this completely new side of the engineer for the rest of the night, if he hadn't been so tired. But like this, warm and comfy and safe, after having slept way too less, he was gone within minutes. 

This was the first night since he'd been abducted nearly six weeks ago, that he slept properly, with no nightmare disturbing his peace. 

It had been about goddamned time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you guys kill me if I put this on ice for a few weeks? Because I got so many ideas for new stories and kinda lost my motivation for this one and "Avocados in love"  
> I'll continue if you say no to that, though :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some fluff, some drama, some more drama, then fluff again and then kind of a show down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not proof read this, so there might be spelling mistakes and stuff. I'll probably check it in the next few days, so if there are any, I'll correct them. 
> 
> Also this took long again, but now it's coming to an end and the 'Avocados in love' one too, and then I'll finish a few shorter ones and _then_ I will start a longer one.

Matt woke to the smell of scrambled eggs. For a moment he didn't move, didn't open his eyes, only enjoyed the feeling of laying in a comfortable bed, warm and safe. Then he sighed and got up, wincing as his still sore body protested. Though it had already gotten better. He was beginning to heal. 

“Morning sunshine.”, Tony smiled as Matt stepped behind him. “Thought I'd make breakfast.” 

He tried to sound confident about it, but Matt could hear small anxious waver in his voice, so he smiled, too and said: “Smells great.” He stifled a yawn. “I'll take a shower first, though.”

“Sure, take your time.”

He nodded and took off into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and waited until it was piping hot before he stepped under the spray of water. He let himself get soaked, just standing there for a few minutes. Again he sighed. 

This was nice. Being here, in this tower, with these people. It felt good. Safe. 

 

Ten minutes later Matt left the bathroom, and sat down at the table on the opposite side from Tony. Who was a little overwhelmed by the view presenting itself to him. 

Sure, he'd known before that Matt was really handsome, but this was something new: his dark hair was still moist from the shower and was sticking into every direction possible; his skin was damp and silky. Combined with the plain grey shirt and some black sweatpants, and it was enough to let Tony gape at the other man. 

“You okay?”, Matt suddenly asked and frowned. He hadn't missed the speeding of Tony's heart, he just wasn't sure why it had done that. 

“No, yeah, I'm fine. You're just … really hot.”

“Umm … thanks?” He tried to fight the blush creeping up his cheeks, but he didn't think he succeeded. 

He did not. 

And Tony's thoughts began wandering. What a view! He was curious if it would be equally amazing if they were in bed, Matt sprawled out underneath him, gasping for air, blushing when he was told how great he was. 

Aaaaand stop right there. They had shared a bed. They were having breakfast. SO not the time for these kind of thoughts. 

“So, what do you wanna do today?”, Tony finally asked. 

“I wanted to go to the training hall with Clint.”, Matt replied with a crooked smile. “I'd like to start working out again. And work, for that matter.” He looked quite hopeful at that, an expression that looked foreign on his face, as if the muscles required for it didn't quite know if it was right what they were doing. But it looked nice on him. Matt was about a hundred times more beautiful when he smiled, or when his eyes glowed with happy expectation.

It was a look that everyone in the tower would love to see more often. Even Sam, who had grown quite fond of the dark-haired man in the past few days, even though Matt didn't go out of his room all too often. 

 

“Hey Matt.”, Clint greeted, as he saw the other man entering the room, looking around a little insecure. “Good to see you.”

Matt joined the archer next to a punching bag and gave him a small smile. “You too.” Then he ran a hand over the cool leather, stuffed with sand, and his smile widened into a grim smirk. 

“I assume you want to start with throwing a few punches?” Clint grinned when Matt nodded. “Alright, great, but do me a favour? Don't overdo it.”

For that he got nothing but a _wink_. Matt quickly put on some bandages to protect his wrists and fingers with old routine, then he positioned himself in front of the punching bag and raised his hands. 

Clint watched in fascination as the vigilante started hitting his target, sending it swinging away, and every time it swung back, it was hit again. With every time Matt's fists connected with the bag, a whole range of muscles tensed up, showing off how well trained he really was, even after all this time. Sure, he had lost weight and still wasn't in topform, yet, but the amount of strength he nevertheless still had, was impressive. 

And Clint certainly liked the display of power right in front of him. 

He also realized that he wouldn't stand a chance against this man. Sure, he was more than great with his bow and also good with knives and stuff, but he was nowhere as skilled as Matt when it came to hand-to-hand-fights. He wasn't bad, but first of all he had an entirely different stile and second of all he'd always preferred weapons over hands.

So yeah, he was totally falling for the Devil of Hell's Kitchen. 

Although he really shouldn't, because Tony already had and he'd probably be really pissed as hell by Clint if he was ever to find out. And nobody in this tower could hide anything from Tony Stark for longer than like ten minutes. 

Which was low-key bad. 

“You wanna uh … spar a little?”, Matt suddenly interrupted the archer's train of thoughts. 

“Yeah, sure. I'll get Natasha to umpire.” 

 

“You know, with a little bit of training, you could be really good.”, Matt grinned. He had won big time and now, after a shower, he was walking through the park with Clint and Natasha – who was also grinning widely – and tried to get the archer to stop fake-sulking. 

“I can't believe I got beaten by a _blind_ man.”, he huffed. 

“Says the man with hearing aids.”, countered Matt. This was his first time out in public and he was faintly aware of Redwing, which was following them with some distance. They hadn't exactly talked about it, but it was clear that whoever it was who had kidnapped Matt, was still running around in the city and they didn't know if they'd try it again. 

And even though Sam kept insisting that he didn't particularly like the vigilante, he'd sent the Drone after the small group. 

“You should have seen his face when you threw him on the floor.”, Black Widow chuckled. 

“Pfft. I'd like to see you try it.” He lightly pushed against her shoulder, but she easily blocked him. 

Then she stepped closer to Matt and gently petted his arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” He flashed a smile at her, determined to look confident, but she saw right through it. Of course she did. 

They'd had a major discussion with Tony and Bruce, whether Matt should go out already or not. Tony had been heavily against it, but Bruce had said his wounds were fine, Clint was bored, so he had shot Nat a begging look, and finally Natasha had had mercy and offered to join the two men to make Tony feel better. He had then given in, but talked to Sam about Redwing. 

So now here they were, wandering about in the park in the late afternoon, with people's gazes following them, but they simply ignored them. Clint didn't even try to hide his hearing aids, like he might do on other occasions. As for Matt, he stayed close to the archer, constantly brushing against his arm, to ground himself, to keep in control over his fear. 

And it was definitely there, the fear. Fear of being kidnapped again. Fear of being tortured again. Fear of losing his new friends. Fear of dying. 

He hadn't been scared of dying before the Avengers. He hadn't really cared about living, so death wasn't the worst thing to happen. But now, now everything was different.

Because now he had something to lose. 

 

Turns out his fear wasn't for nothing: only about half an hour later and everything went to hell.

They were sitting on a bench, just talking and having a good time – to everybody's surprise, Matt was occasionally even laughing – and Clint was eating, when suddenly Matt went as stiff as a board, eyes wide open with panic. 

He was so goddamn taken aback by the sound he'd picked up just a few feet behind them, he started shaking. Clint of course noticed right away, grabbed the other man by his shoulders and looked at him with great concern. “What's wrong Matt?”

But all he could do, was sort of shake his head and say “They're here.” He was tearing up now. “They're here, Clint.” At the same time Redwing dropped out of the sky with a knife sticking in it.

That was all the archer needed to jump into action. He left the attackers – although he didn't even know how many there were – to Natasha, grabbed Matt by his arm and started running, pulling the other man with him. 

There was no way he would have walked by himself. He'd probably have stayed frozen on that bench if it hadn't been for Clint. As for Natasha, she'd be fine with however many enemies there were. She might even have been offended if Clint had tried to stay. 

 

“You okay?” Tony handed Matt a glass of cool water and sat down next to him and Clint on the couch. “You look a little pale.”

“No shit.”, the lawyer snapped. Then he took a deep breath and gently squeezed Tony's hand. “Sorry. I'm just … just a little shaken up. Nothing serious.” They were all sitting in Tony's living room, except for Thor, who had a little fight with Loki once again. Something about a secret sister.

“This is what you call 'nothing serious'??”, Sam, who was standing in front of him, interrupted. “Dude, you just came face to face with the people who tortured you. And not in the 'you just gotta identify them so they can piss off to jail' kinda way, but in the 'they wanna hurt you again' kinda way!”

“And it weren't exactly few.”, Natasha added. “They were like twenty people. You really must be a good fighter if they need that many men to bring you down.”

Matt lowered his head a little sheepishly. “Sorry. I suppose you're right.”

“You know, if you'd tell us who it was that kidnapped you, we might be able to find them, hunt them down and put them into jail.” That was Steve, ready to throw some punches, but Bucky lightly tapped his arm and shot him a short look combined with a shake of his head.

Then he said: “He will tell us when he's ready. Or not at all. But that's his decision.”

Matt gave him a grateful look and patted Tony's hand once more. “Thanks.”, he quietly said and got up. All he wanted to do right now was sleep. He was tired and drained and he couldn't stand the thought of having to stay here for much longer, surrounded by questioning, possibly judging faces and the smell of disappointment. “I'll go upstairs and … and call Foggy.”

 

“Mr. Murdock, Mr. Nelson had arrived. Do you want me to send him up?”, Jarvis asked, just as Matt had sat down on the couch.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Two minutes later and the lawyer entered. For a few seconds neither of them said anything. Then Foggy quietly greeted: “Hey.”

“Hey.”, Matt replied. He gestured to the space on the sofa next to him. “Sit?”

“Sure.” Then: “You look better.” It was a little awkward between them, considering they hadn't talked since the Avengers had more or less adopted the vigilante.

“Thanks. Bruce stitched me up very well.” He gave his friend a small smile at the attempt to defeat the weirdness. “He didn't even hulk out when I punched him once.”

“Wait … he's Hulk??”, Foggy exclaimed. “Like _the_ Hulk? And you punched him??” He grinned. “Awesome.”

“Yeah. They're all pretty awesome here.”

“Right. But that's probably not what you wanted to talk about, was it?”

“No.” He took a deep breath. “I … I was at the park today. With Clint and Natasha. And … well, we were attacked. Or more accurately, Clint brought me back here while Nat had her fun.” Again he tried to smile, but this time it wouldn't work. “I just wanted to tell you to be careful. They're … they're still out there and I don't know if you're in danger.”

“How do you mean _'attacked'_? Did they try to take you again??” He jumped to his feet and started pacing around, hands on his hips. 

Matt lowered his head. “Yes.”

“What if they'd succeeded?! What if they'd gotten to you? What then?!”, Foggy angrily yelled. “What would have happened then?!”

“Foggy, I know how to kill myself in three different ways from a seated position. I'd never say anything to endanger you. And I don't think I have. Just had to make sure you knew-”

“This isn't about me, Matt. This is about you! The fact alone that you _know_ how to kill yourself in three different ways is fucked up and terrifying, and I hate that.” He pointed a finger at the other man. “I don't have anything to do with this!”

“So you think nothing of this is about you?”, Matt hissed and got up now, too. “All of this is about you! Always has been! Do you think I liked lying to you for all this time, over and over again? Do you think I found it funny to always be on edge because I was scared I'd let something slip that might destroy our friendship, which, by the way, did in the end happen?! Or that I spent my time being tortured just because some fucktrucks were pissed at me??” His voice was shaking with agitation, his lower lip trembling. “I could have given them what they wanted, you now, so they could break me. I could have given them the name of my 'partner'. Of my friend. Of the most important person on this planet. I could have given them _you_! Or I could have killed myself, which is still tempting, by the way, because, in case you haven't noticed yet: _I'm fucked up_ , Foggy! But I didn't! I didn't say a single word, except for my pleas, begging them to _stop hurting me_. Because I couldn't endanger you! Even when they had incredible fun with my body.” For a second he just stood there, heavily panting. “Because I couldn't let them hurt you.”, he repeated. “And now they're coming at me again, and I just have to make sure that you are safe, because I won't survive a second round. I don't want to.”

A heavy silence hung between the two men, uncomfortable and incredibly _present_ , as if to remind them of the terrors of the past. 

Then Foggy did something he should have done weeks ago: he closed the distance between him and Matt and pulled him close, held him tight, soothingly stroked his back. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay.”, Matt whispered and buried his face in Foggy's shoulder. “It's okay.”

“It's not. You shouldn't have had to … to go through this, just because of me.”

Matt lifted his head and looked at him. “Foggy, you are the most important person in my life.” He thought about Clint and Tony. Sure, they were kind and caring and Clint really was amazing. He'd looked out for Matt all this time, without putting his secret-not-so-secret-crush behind everything else, which the vigilante was immensely grateful for, because he didn't know if he was ready yet. And still, nobody was more important than Foggy. Then again, Foggy was more like a brother. Not a lover. “Always will be. And I will always worry about you.”

“God, Karen will be so pissed when she hears about this.” Foggy let out a breathy laugh. 

“Yeah, she'll probably slap us both for being morons.”, Matt agreed. 

“You should maybe talk about what happened, though. You can't run away from it forever. You know that, right?”

“I know. Steve said about the same just today.”

“... as in Steve Rogers??”

Matt grinned. “Yeah. Captain America. I can tell Jarvis to take you to him. I got an appointment with my therapist in like ten minutes and I think I'll actually say something today.”

Because of course today was another one of their appointments.

 

“You know, you uh, your wounds have healed very nicely.”, Bruce said and put some fresh bandages on Matt's bigger cuts. The smaller ones had already closed and didn't even need protection any more.

“Yeah. I guess.” Matt gave him a small smile from where he was sitting on the couch. “Thanks. For everything. And sorry that I punched you that day.”

“Oh, that's okay, wasn't that bad. And besides, you were pretty shaken up and confused and scared, so I think that was only a natural reaction.”

“Right.”

When Bruce was finished with his inspections, he left the apartment. Just in time for Ms. Bloom to enter. 

“Hello Matt.”, she greeted and walked to the table, knowing the lawyer wouldn't want to shake hands or anything. “Clint told me about your little trip today. Do you want to talk about it?” She really didn't do the whole easing-in-thing, did she.

“Yes.” He joined her and sat down next to her, shoulders back, eyebrows drawn together in determination and lips tight. “Yes I do.”

Alana looked at him in surprise, but then she nodded. “Great. Where would you like to start?”

He cleared his throat. “I'm going to start at the beginning.”, he finally announced.

 

“Ma'am, the alarm at the front door went off. Do you wish to check it personally?”

“Why would I want that?”

“Because there's rather … unexpected visitors.” The man gulped and quickly lowered his head when she turned around to look at him. 

The woman raised an eyebrow. There was only one scenario in which she would be asked to control things herself. “Show me.”

 

“And you're sure this is the right address?”, Clint asked and squinted at the building in front of him. “Looks pretty ugly.”

“Your old house looked ugly, too, yet it was the right place to find you.”, Tony replied and rolled his eyes. “Jarvis said it's the right address, so it's the right address!”

“Alright, fine!” The archer raised his hands in defence. “Just saying it's some pretty ass ugly house to live in.”

“Oh my god would you two stop?!”, Natasha interrupted, before Tony could say something else. “This is serious, so stop fighting with each other!”

“Yes, Mom.” Clint stepped forward and climbed over the pile of brick-stones that had been a wall about five minutes ago. Then he noticed some shadows moving. “We got company.”

“Of course we do.” Tony and Nat followed the archer and together they fought their way to the main entrance of the dark building. 

Only minutes later and they were in the basement. 

 

“The famous Avengers.” She stepped out of the shadows and pointed a gun at Natasha's head. “How very nice to finally meet you.”

“Vanessa Marianna.”, Tony replied. “Pleasure is ours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked this, you can go to my Instagram page Jonah_Smith_907_Fanfictions.  
> I will post updates there and you can send me prompts if you want.


	7. Chapter 7

“Laura?”, Clint asked into his phone as he stood by a window and looked outside. “Hey. How's things going?”

 _“Pretty well actually. I mean the kids keep asking when you will come back, but apart from that, it's fine.”_ There was a short pause. _“When _do_ you come back though?”_

“I … don't know yet.” He scratched over a cut on his arm. “That's actually why I called you.” He took a deep breath. “There's something I need to tell you.” 

_“Yeah? Well, don't scare me like that. Just say it.”_ The worry in her voice was obvious, and it didn't make it easier to keep talking.

“You know, how I'm uh bisexual, right?” Please, god, don't let her be angry.

_“Yeah...?”_

“Well, there's this … lawyer. Vigilante. Guy.” Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!!

_“.......and?”_

“IthinkIhaveACrushOnHimAndIdon'tKnowWhatToDoAndI'mReallySorryButIt'sLikeAStrongCrushAndOhGawd” He nearly started crying over all the feelings swirling around inside him: love and guilt and fear and more guilt and more fear. “Also Tony had a crush first, so I'm a little lost.”

Again there was a long pause. Very long. Then: _“Okay. This is how we'll do it: you two go out. That's fine. But I want to get to know him before you do anything … else.”_

“Wait, what, really?? Like … Really???” … ahaha … what?

_“Yes. Might get interesting. As long as you speak to Tony and don't abandon the kids or me! I want you to tell me your feelings, or this will not work! Understood?”_

“Yeah, sure, of course.” He grinned at his reflection in the window and said from the bottom of his heart: “God, I love you, Laura.”

She chuckled. _“I love you, too, Clint.”_

 

“Tony, you here?”, Clint called into the dark apartment.

“Yeah, just taking a shower. Gimme a sec.” There was a little bit of shuffling, then a door opened and out stepped Tony with wet hair, a fresh t-shirt and sweatpants. “What's up?”

The archer looked down to his feet. “So you know, uh, Matt, right? Like you having a crush on him and all?”

“Yeah, about that.” Tony squinted, but a slight grin tucked at the corners of his mouth. He had a feeling he knew where this was going. “I found somebody else.”

“... oh yeah?” Thank goodness!

“Yeah, Pepper. Shoulda realized that earlier, but hey, now here we are. Taking her out for dinner tomorrow night.”

“I … okay, cool. Good.” Clint grinned. “I'll take Matt out tonight. If he wants to.” He winked at the mechanic, a little more confident now. “Wish me luck.”

 

Matt had just fallen asleep on the couch, waiting for news, when Clint entered. He saw the small heap on the couch and couldn't help but crack a wide smile. He was about to get a blanket, but before he could do so, the vigilante sat up with a short yawn. 

“Sorry to wake you.”, the archer apologized. 

“No, it's okay. I was gonna wait, but I must have fallen asleep.” He smiled a little nervously. “So how'd it go?”

“Well, Natasha nearly got shot and Tony is pissed because he got scratches on his suit, but apart from that we're fine and Vanessa is in prison.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep, brought her there personally and told the police what she did.” He hesitated for a few seconds. “You'll have to give a statement though.”

Matt nodded and tried to hide how uncomfortable the pure thought of that made him. “When?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Okay. Good. This is good.” He cleared his throat. Then a cruel thought crossed his mind: “Won't they need physical evidence?”

“Yeah, but Bruce made sure of that right away when he checked your wounds and everything. He got evidence. Loads of them.”

Matt nodded. “Thanks.”, he then quietly said. “For everything.”

“Sure thing, honey. What are friends for, right?” He turned to leave again, thinking that maybe the other man wanted to be alone for now, also he was pretty insecure about the whole asking-out-on-a-date-thing, but then it dawned to him what he'd just said. “Um … I mean …” He chuckled self-consciously. “Uh sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for.” Matt smiled with a light blush wandering up his cheeks. “I um … you know, I noticed before. Just didn't say anything, because you didn't and I appreciate that, because I wasn't ready yet.” He cleared his throat. “I am now though.” The blush intensified.

“You – I – really?” Clint followed lead with the throat clearing-thing. “I thought you and that blond lawyer were together??”

“What, Foggy?” The vigilante chuckled. Damn, he was beautiful when he smiled. “No. He's more like a brother. Been through some pretty rough shit, had a few fights, but now we're good again. But no, we were never romantically … entangled.”

“Oh, well that's good. I mean … you know.” He awkwardly rubbed over his neck and picked at a scratch there. “So, uh, you wanna go grab dinner sometime?” 

Matt smiled, but there was also a slight frown on his face. “Aren't you married with three kids, though?”

“I mean yeah, but I called Laura – my wife – and … kind of asked for permission. She said yes, but she wants to get to know you and probably threaten you with something. I'm not exactly sure where she's heading with that, but whatever she wants, I'll do it.

The vigilante nodded thoughtfully. “Well in this case ...” He smiled broadly, his whole face lit up and his eyes were shining with a mix of Love and Joy and Hope. “Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that very much.” He wasn't sure how he felt about being in a polyamorous relationship, but he was open for everything.

Clint joined the vigilante on the couch and put one arm around his shoulder. “When are you free?”

Matt leaned back against the newly appeared cushion. “Oh, I don't know, how about I go and take a shower and after that we'll see where we end up?”

“Sounds good to me.”, the archer agreed. “I gotta shower, too, though. I'll pick you up in an hour. Here.”

“So you already have a plan?”

“Oh yes. Nothing too fancy, so a suit would be too much. Just … put on whatever you like.”

“With pleasure.” 

Clint got up and stepped into the elevator with a wave. Matt waited until the doors were closed, then he swallowed down a few tears of overwhelming happiness. A happiness he hadn't felt in a very long time, and which he prayed would stay forever. He took a deep breath and disappeared into the bathroom. It was going to be alright. Everything was going to be alright.

 

“Where are you taking me?”, the blind lawyer asked as Clint pulled him down the street. 

“Be patient; Jesus Matt, you're worse than Cooper when he's tired!”

“Fine, then at least walk a little slower.” The archer smiled and complied, putting one arm around Matt's shoulder. He was still anxious when he had to go outside, was still a little jumpy at loud noises or when somebody came towards him fast. It would take time until he was fully back to normal, but that was okay. For as long as he was with Clint.

“You're gonna love it.” Another smile flashed over his face, making his eyes glow. He had a feeling like this really was going to be perfect. “Your friend recommended it.”

“Which friend? I got two.”

“You got more than two friends, my dear.” Clint pressed a soft kiss into the vigilante's hair. “I spoke to Foggy.”

“... really?” Matt turned his head with a curious frown.

“Yeah, I kinda asked for permission to take you out.” When he saw the doubting expression on the other one's face, he let out an amused chuckle. “The day he called Tony, he was pretty pissed and I just had a feeling that it's not very pleasant to have Foggy Nelson angry at you. Especially if it's about you, because he's kinda really protective. So yeah, I asked him and he recommended this nice place not far away.”

Matt was chuckling now, too, a bright grin on his face, reaching up to his chocolate eyes. To those perfect, beautiful dark eyes. “That's very sweet of you.” Then he raised an eyebrow. “Did he threaten you, though?”

“... yeah.” They grinned at each other. “I also made sure Tony was okay with this.”

“Did you ask every person on this planet for permission or just these two?”, Matt sarcastically asked with a smirk in his voice.

“Just these two. You know, with Foggy being your best friend and Tony being the first to have a crush on you. Now he has a date with Pepper, though. So everybody's cool.”

“Good to know.”

“Yeah.” They stopped in front of a small Asian restaurant. “We're here.”

“Smells nice.” Matt smiled as the sweet-spicy scent of food found its way into his nose. “But you know, before we go inside, I wanna do something first.”

“And what might tha-” Clint's words were cut off by the vigilante's lips, softly and tentatively pressing against his. Clint inhaled in surprise, then he grinned like an idiot and took Matt's face into his hands and kissed him back. Somebody yelled something from the other side of the street, but the sweetness and innocence of their first kiss shut everything else out, leaving only them, in the warm light of the restaurant.

After what seemed like seconds, the lawyer pulled away and took the other man's hand into his. He looked up and teasingly licked over his lips. His face was practically glowing with happiness and even his eyes had lost their naturally kind of sad expression. “Let's go inside.”, he whispered. 

Yeah, Clint thought. This is perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ALL FOR READING, LEAVE ME SOME COMMENTS, THEY ARE MY FUEL
> 
> Also if you liked this, you can go to my Instagram page Jonah_Smith_907_Fanfictions.  
> I will post updates there and you can send me prompts if you want.


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